Falling all over,
drenched in a rain
that has made you shiver
so long you wouldn't recognize
sun if it fell across the pavement
in front of you. But the sun
always leaves shadows anyway,
so you pick your battles.

Stranded in this sea
my mother says is a just a stream.
You never believed in mutiny, only
making decisions that were
"best for everyone."

And how can I argue with that?

The side character, the bent-in
bottle cap, reducing me to a
bad habit. I know. I said I wasn't
going to do this anymore.
I said a lot of things. I'm sorry.

The crux of it,
I think. I'd rather a noose
hold me up than use you
as a crutch. Shaking our heads
at the kicked-up dust, I never
wanted it to be this way.

I don't have any explanations for you.
I'm just crazy.